Just the Sniffles (tags Rulven)

[Requiem]

Pleasant breeze. He stretched his arms, reaching as far as he could past his head, but he still couldn't touch. Perfect! After being chased by a pack of evil wherries (it was actually only one stubborn one after his food, but Dmitri thought it sounded better to say he ran from a pack of them as opposed to simply one curious one) he was quite thoroughly lost. He really hadn't been outside much. Ever. As evidenced by the almost unnaturally pale hue of his skin. And, as with most things new and exciting, he had to experience it all, and with a certain childish glee that belied the height and manner of speech that tended to suggest Dmitri was older than fifteen.

Psht. Nasty sniffles. He wrinkled his nose. Someone had mentioned that maybe he should get a healer to check him out, since the sniffles didn't want to go away and he'd started coughing a couple nights past...but Dmitri thought it was silly. If he wasn't sick with that nasty fatal disease going around, he almost certainly would be after going to the infirmary. Besides which, it was merely the sniffles. People often had trouble with a new place. Their bodies took time to adjust. Everyone else who had taken ill had gotten all fevery and weird, anyway, which he definitely wasn't.

Thus claimed the mind of the fifteen-turn-old, lost in the forest after fleeing from a wherry, currently dangling upside down from a tree branch by his knees. Oh yes. He definitely wasn't acting weird at all. It did occur to him, however, that much as he didn't like dragons - or the ugly whers - that he wasn't, of course, going to Impress because his nasty thoughts would doubtless keep them away while still giving him remarkable insight into the experience for new songs...Much as he didn't like dragons, a pet might be convenient. Thus someone might actually know he was lost out here.

But Dmitri wasn't worried yet. Nope. Just so long as no more evil wherries came, he'd just...think...his way out of it. Right. He could read direction looking at the sky. It just...would likely be more helpful if he knew which direction he should be going in. Yes. Definitely more helpful.

Torquing his body, he swung back and forth on the branch. Blood to the brain makes you think better, right? Stifling another cough that sounded like a cute mix between a sneeze and a squeak, he turned his mind to other things. Use both sides of your brain, yes. Okay then. A song. A new song. What should he sing of? Well, probably the plague, but someone might get upset if they heard him singing that right now. (Not that anyone else fled here to escape wherries.) Maybe the dragon wars, then. Or just the state of things in general. Dmitri was cheerfully morbid today, for whatever reason, and the song that issued forth from his lips reflected that.

"Cries o'ertake the world at large
But Time keeps crawling on.
I feel like I'm just plodding through
The same old boring song.
The tempo slows, the notes dip low,
And all tones draw out long,
'Till I wish fair death would touch
So as to hustle us along."

Set to a tune that would be suitable for a swing dance, the pure baritone that Dmitri was known for well and above his pipe playing - which was worthy of a journeyman, but nothing spectacular compared to others of his rank - made of the words almost a joke. It certainly sounded like he wanted to go find this 'death' and dance with him to the grave. Dmitri giggled at the effect, torquing his body once more to renew the arc of the swing.

[rii]

The plague had left Rulven mostly untouched. He remembered getting a slight cough, a mild fever--but both were gone after a day and good night's rest. Others had not been so lucky, and Rulven couldn't help but feel guilty that he had not suffered as much as the others. So the smith had offered to help in the only way he knew how: manual labor. He helped move the bodies of those less fortunate than him. Depressing work, but Rulven took to the task as he would anything else, stoney expression and steeled emotions. The feeling of their death lingered along his skin, crawling with the touch of the plague, and Rulven made it a point to hike down river to bathe. The waters were frigid, but he scrubbed until he felt clean enough to return to the rest of the Weyr. Avidly he tried to avoid anyone well, or at least sane (those delusions others were having could be quite disturbing). Not like Rulven to close himself off. He enjoyed the company of others, but if he spread the plague to others because of his dealings with the dead.. well, the thought alone made him feel awful.

Rulven currently was hiking back up river from one of his chilling wash sessions. Dressed in only shorts, carrying his sandals and leaving his shirt hanging over his shoulder. The sun felt good on his back, warm and comforting--a lot better than a cold stiff body. His hazel eyes studied the ground as he walked, clearly brooding over the disheartening events. At least, he was focused in his own little world until he heard the singing.

Perking up, Rulven came to a halt and observed his surroundings. The sound came from the tree line. For a moment Rulven eyed the slender trunks with suspicion. He really shouldn't go out there, and so far from the Weyr. But that voice, it drew the smith over to the greenery--slipping on his sandals as he met rougher terrain. Rulven certainly had a healthy sense of curiosity, and little notion of caution. He took the straightest route, his approach audible as he made the plants move for him and not the other way around.

The song had stopped, and so too did Rulven. He slowly turned in a circle to find some sort of clue, his gaze slightly down cast as he searched. Movement, just ahead, Rulven lifted his gaze to.. spy a rather unusual sight. He recognized the little harper right away, and even though he did not know him well, Rulven still found the scene very strange. Maybe it was normal, but an inkling of worry stirred in the smith's broad chest.

"Uhm.. " He had taken a few steps over to peer up at the harper. What was his name.. the smith paused, brows knitting as he tried to recall a name. Only it didn't work that way, he kept drawing up traits he associated with the younger male. Little (not in height, but frame), energetic, talkative but not nearly as chatty as Nautic, chirps random nonsense like a flit, long hair--yes, too long of hair. Rulven couldn't think of anyone besides some girls that had longer. Nope, Rulven frowned, couldn't remember a name. Would have to do without it. ".. Wha'cha doing up there?"

[Requiem]

The song over, he heard something else. Dmitri's eyes narrowed to slits, lips pursing slightly. Oh, bother. That sounded like a whole army of the annoying, carnivorous little monsters headed his way. It seemed that the one he'd thought he'd lost had gone and collected his buddies, and they were going to jump him for the little scrap of food before probably deciding that it wasn't enough and pecking him to death. Well, the world certainly had a sense of humor, didn't it? Dmitri hadn't actually meant he wanted to die just yet. Maybe tomorrow. Probably not.

The dextrous boy coiled up on himself, latching onto his ankles with his hands and effectively halting the swinging. There. Now the wherries wouldn't be able to reach him unless they could climb! Wait a second. Could wherries climb? He suddenly wasn't sure. He knew they couldn't fly, which they should be able to given their wings, so maybe since they shouldn't climb they could, if one was to follow the same logic. Fortunately, before Dmitri could decide what exactly to do about that, a familiar voice broke in on his thoughts.

Rulven! Well, he certainly wasn't an army of wherries, now was he? Dmitri released his ankles and unfolded above Rulven, swinging rather precariously for the space of a few seconds, the long hair streaming down and managing to spill over Rulven's face just a little. Noticing the oddity, he reached down and gathered it up so he wasn't tickling the smith with it, grinning sheepishly at the man. "The wherries don't like me," he responded quite seriously. Now that Rulven was here, he'd be safe on the ground, but...hmm. If he released the branch now he'd fall right on top of the smith. Not that the big, strong muscley one was likely to be crushed by a falling Demi...still, he may not like it.

Well, there was an easy solution to that, wasn't there? In the space of a few seconds, he'd twisted his hair to keep it from flying every which direction and wrapped it around his own neck twice, then extended his hands back down toward Rulven. "Help me down? I think my legs are cramping." Not entirely true, but it would be easier...and he wouldn't have to tell the brutish one to move it or get dropped on. Not really waiting for an answer, Dmitri began talking again.

"They wanted my food, I think. Here I am, just minding my own business, wandering through the trees because it's not really that smart to stay in disease-infested places, and they attacked me. I fled for my life! Of course, I managed to lose them - and I really thought all that crashing a moment ago was them coming back - but then I was kind of lost. And it seemed good to hang upside down (makes a person think better, some say) to try to find a solution. Plus up high is better than down low. But now I don't have to worry about it." He flashed Rulven a dazzling grin, which then turned to a slight frown.

"Unless...you're lost too?"

[rii]

Rulven reached up to brush the hair away from his face, only the harper noticed and tucked it away before he could touch the long strands. Instead he rubbed the end of his nose, sniffing slightly at the sensation of a phantom hair clinging to the end. As Dmitri prattled on, the inkling of doubt turned into genuine worry, and Rulven slowly began to frown at his friend. No, he didn't want to believe it; that the harper had too fallen ill. The smith had spent enough time around the infirmary to hear the delusional rantings of the patients. Dmitri might seem healthy, but..

Wherries?

Hazel eyes took a cautious scan of the surroundings before lifting to analyze the positioning of the harper. Rulven extended his own hand, taking Dmitri's and pulling the harper forward to extend the body--to give him something else to catch when the other dropped. Rulven stretched out his free arm, planning to catch Dmitri's just above the knees (bridal style) as it seemed the easiest option. "You can let go."

A dreadful thought seized Rulven's mind. What if no one had found Dmitri out in the jungle? They were fairly far down river from the Weyr, and with the harper being lost, delirious--not to mention the threat of felines. Rulven felt like scolding the harper, and it must of shown on his face because his brows drew together in a light scowl; most befitting the older brother role. He kept a firm hold on Dmitri's hand, muscles tensing with the effort to keep the harpers body at an angle. (He'd let go and adjust his arm to fully catch the other).

"The Weyr is just up river from here. We can go back together and uhm.. avoid the wherries."

He decided to try and play along with the ranting. It seemed to work better for the healers who were treating those patients. Although, a small hope in him prayed that maybe Dmitri was just weird and not sick. Maybe fleeing a pack of hungry wherries and climbing trees to hang upside down was perfectly normal for the harper. Yeah. No harm in wishing for the best. Even if it was utterly ridiculous.

[Requiem]

Arching his back, for a moment Dmitri thought Rulven was trying to stretch him. "I'm really quite tall enough without any help," the harper commented cheerfully, wrinkling his nose at the former - former? - smith. Oh! He still had to find out that story, he did, and it must be quite interesting since Rulven seemed so determined to hide it. Now how to go about doing that?

Oh, right, he was going to get down from here. Wriggling and just a little uncomfortable at the position Rulven had put him in, Dmitri found it somewhat difficult to release his legs cold turkey like this. Oh well. He might as well risk a cracked skull if the other candidate didn't catch him...since he certainly couldn't remain like this for much longer. He thrust with his hips, managing to unhook his legs and nearly flip himself over (though fortunately he hadn't been able to put quite that much force behind it or he'd have ended up kicking Rulven in the face).

Dmitri crashed into Rulven's chest with a squeak, flinging his arms around the man's neck and clinging. "Well, that could have gone better," the harper remarked dryly. If he was at all embarrassed to be held in such a way by another man, he made no indication of it, which was actually a bit odd considering Dmitri was, for all intents and purposes, a holder, even if he had been born in a Weyr. They tended to get weird about anything that could be suggestive of homosexuality. Then again, Dmitri didn't think of men that way - yet, at least - and was innocent enough in his own quirky ways to be completely oblivious to it.

Just as he was utterly oblivious as to the questions his very appearance might raise.

His eyes narrowed, hearing something in Rulven's voice, and the harper poked the smith full on the nose. "Are you mocking me, big boy? I know wherries aren't scary to you but they do eat meat, you know, and flailing only goes so far. I'd rather not be remembered as the silly little harper boy who managed to get himself eaten by wherries, of all things." His words seemed completely reasonable to Dmitri. After all, who would want such a ridiculous death to follow them around? Or...circulate around without them, he supposed.

Frowning a little, he pouted. "Won't the wherries be near the water, though? I refuse to go unless you promise not to let them eat me," Dmitri finished petulantly. "Is it such a crime to smell nice?" Because of course that had to be why the wherry - hyperbolized into many so that Dmitri didn't sound quite so pathetic - had followed him about, right?

[rii]

As planned, Rulven released Dmitri hand and slid his arm down to catch the harper's back. Muscles tensed, knees bent, an easy catch. For the smith's part, he did not find it awkward, his mind worked a simple (if naive) logic. He had caught Dmitri, nothing less, nothing more. The nose poking he did find odd, scrunching it up at the offense--as his hands were too busy to rub at it.

"Animals usually like me. I feed them, and they in turn, like me. Er, but I promise not to feed you to the wherries if we run into any. And I'd rather run into a wherry by the river than a feline in the forest. If push comes to shove we can just retreat into the water, right?" Because there was no way Rulven was going to crash along through the jungle with a babbling harper. That scene just screamed for something nasty to come along and eat them. Rulven shook his head, not a chance, they'd probably really get lost if they stayed in the trees. Rulven didn't have the best sense of direction. Although if there was food involved, his appetite would lead them to the nearest kitchen.

Rulven dropped Dmitri's legs, but kept hold around his back. His free hand lifted and swiped away the hair from Dmitri's forehead, switching around to hold the back of the harpers head. The smith then bent his own head down to press and hold his own forehead against Dmitri's. The smith have a very frank expression as he stared down into Dmitri's face. Hm, the harper was slightly warm, but it was hard to be certain. The smith's own temperature was always warm, as if he carried a bit of the forge around in his blood, so he couldn't clearly judge--but to be on the safe side, he'd assume Dmitri had at least a slight fever.

Again a frown, Rulven stood back, his arms falling away from the harper. Now he did rub his nose to remove the ghostly feeling still clinging to the end, whether from the hair or poke, he couldn't be sure. Turning to the.. overly obvious trail he had made moments earlier, Rulven took the lead back toward the river. Pausing after a few steps to make sure Dmitri would follow.

"I didn't see any wherries around when I came down this way, so I'm pretty sure it's safe." Maybe. Dmitri's delusion was starting to get to him and Rulven felt a tiny bit worried they did run the chance of crossing paths with a wild wherry. Hadn't it been said a wild queen had clutched nearby? Rulven's brow furrowed as he tried so very hard to remember. Mm... nope, nothing. His expression smoothed out again. "You coming?"

[Requiem]

"Um. Yeah. Thanks for not feeding me to wherries," Dmitri commented drolly, his face wiped blank of all expression to match his voice. He brightened almost immediately, though, squirming a bit to be let down but not yet in full protest mode. He wasn't a child anymore, after all. "That should help. Wherries don't swim, do they?" It seemed unlikely with all the feathers. One could never be sure, however, what these strange creatures might do. At least, not when you were a harper used to walls and city streets. Selenitas was definitely a new adventure for him.

Oh, good! Feet belonged on the ground, they did. Dmitri was confused, however, when Rulven didn't pull back immediately. The queer-hued grays widened, his nostrils flaring as he froze stock-still. Wha-? While he was used to being smaller than most men as far as mass was concerned, he was actually fairly tall, and he'd quite forgotten just how big the smith truly was. There couldn't be too many larger - at least without being complete freaks of nature. He jerked out of his frozen state at the touch of the smith's hand on his forehead, hands coming up to push rather futilely against Rulven's chest.

He should have protested or something. Honestly! Did the man think he could take advantage of Dmitri just because the harper was significantly smaller and they were out in the woods alone?! ...Actually, he probably could because of those reasons, come to think, but it still didn't make it right. He trembled as Rulven's face lowered, eyes closing, his face draining of all blood. Yes, he was scared. But the expected kiss didn't come. Apparently the smith had only wanted to...brush foreheads with him? Dmitri stumbled backwards as soon as he was released, directing a startled glare at the smith. What was he thinking?

A small part of Dmitri was annoyed at Rulven because he'd stopped, which suggested that the harper wasn't good enough for him, but mostly he was just annoyed that the smith had scared him like that. He still didn't understand why but it definitely wasn't very nice. Half-coiled and watching Rulven warily with the intent to dash off down the riverbank if the smith showed any further signs of weird behavior, he was further surprised when Rulven began walking off. Oh, this man was strange.

"I don't know," Dmitri stated in response to Rulven's question. Then again, he didn't really want to be out here alone with wherries, particularly when Rae said that wasn't all that was out in the Selenitas jungles. If one wherry could best him, he was rather screwed if he happened to run into anything else, wasn't he? Strange smith for company it was, then. Darting forward, he kicked Rulven swiftly in the shin, before continuing a small ways down the river. There he turned to face Rulven, walking backwards to keep an eye on the smith. Well out of arm's reach. "Don't ever do that again. Don't you know it isn't nice?"

[rii]

Rulven's brow furrowed in response to the look that was directed at him. For split second he feared the thin harper would dash off into the jungle because of some delusion. If he had to chase the other down, likely they would end up lost--and if no one thought to search for them (and Rulven couldn't think of anyone that would notice right away) they would end up as feline chow. The smith steeled himself, ready to pounce if Dmitri made a move to run. He would carry the youth, kicking and screaming, all the way back to the Weyr if necessary.

Then suddenly--Ow!--Rulven shot a confused look at the harper. "What was that for!?" He shook off the pain and followed, scowling the whole way, after Dmitri. What madness! Calm down Rulven, the smith chided himself before his thoughts could run amuck; the harper was just a kid, right? A sick, delusional kid. The smith irritably shook his head, whipped the shirt off his shoulder, and quickly shrugged it on over his torso. Hazel eyes momentarily closed to quell his internal annoyance. He inhaled deeply, then let it all out in a single snort through his nostrils. Be gone anger. Not the right place or time.

Eyes opened and re-focused on Dmitri. One large hand gestured behind them, back where they had started. "I helped you out of the tree, and we're going back to the Weyr, how am I not being nice?" Despite the scowl still marring his usually friendly features, the words came out calmly. The expression slowly changed, smoothing then creasing into a frown as the smith bent down to rub the spot on his shin. "That hurt."

Rulven should have known from the start the harper would only be trouble. He knew this, really, in the back of his mind where he could never remember things when he needed the information. It always popped up after the appropriate moment. Dmitri had been a pain in the lessons, a hazard in the kitchen, and now this. Yet, all those past times, that other harper had been around like some unwilling supervisor. Oh dear, was that harper ill as well and both of them had stumbled out into the jungle? Rulven lightly groaned, "Did you come out here with anyone else, or is it just you running from wherries?"

[Requiem]

Demi's eyes narrowed. So, then, even mountains could be hurt! Torn between glaring and breaking out into a triumphant grin, he settled for a blank expression, his response to Rulven's reaction a distinctly bland one. "It's not nice to go and try to kiss someone, not let them get away, and then decide not to kiss them after all. I don't want to kiss you," he added, settling his arms over his chest firmly. That should close that topic, now shouldn't it? Even though he really would rather like to know why Rulven had changed his mind. (If he had terrible breath, he'd like to take care of that - though not to encourage more smithly affections - thank you much!)

The hands fell from his chest, and this time he really did frown at Rulven. "I don't know who else the wherries like to chase," he snapped shortly. A little upset was he? Oh, just a bit. Dmitri wasn't typically so tempramental, but being almost kissed by the burly bear wasn't a good mood enhancer. (And he really did have a slight fever, even if he wasn't at all aware of it. Dmitri had, indeed, contracted the plague, almost since the first day...but, though the harper couldn't be rid of it, none of the symptoms were emerging, at least very strongly. Thus he was carrying the plague to everyone he came in contact with without going down himself. Most unfortunate.)

"And Eikane isn't my keeper. He is allowed to be somewhere else, and I'm allowed to go places without him." Actually, according to the MasterHarper, Eikane should be attached to him at the hip, but Dmitri didn't care for that particular order and, as long as Eikane was willing to ignore it, how was the man going to know, anyway? "Which means that if he is in the forest somewhere he chose to do so of his own accord without my knowledge." Just in case Rulven couldn't pick that up from the earlier comments. Judging by his reaction to Dmitri's retaliation, the smith wasn't always the swiftest in the mental department.

Well, that should put the other candidate in his place, shouldn't it? Satisfied, Dmitri turned on a heel and began marching down the riverbank, unwrapping his hair and combing through it with his fingers until it was flowing down his back as it usually did, bouncing with every step. A few feet down the way, he paused to tug off his boots, hopping forward so Rulven wouldn't overtake him while he did so, then took to continuing the walk barefoot in the shallows. Ah! So nice and cool. He broke into a cheerful grin. Selenitas really was a nice place.

[rii]

"What--" Rulven sputtered the next words, his lips unable to form the sounds quick enough to keep up with his mental dispute to the outrageous allegation. Kiss? Kiss!? What a cruel joke! Rulven was not amused by the flitty harper's antics. Just where and why had Dmitri come up with such a far-fetched idea? Rulven never tried to kiss anyone--especially annoying harpers! (Very true, Rulven had never kissed anyone, been kissed yes, by girls offering him thanks for being so sweet. One of his over-bearing sisters always seemed to be nearby to prevent anything else.) Delusional or not, Dmitri had no right to make light of such an act! Kissing involved getting up close and--- Oh.

"I wasn't trying to kiss you!" He barked at the retreating harper, stomping after him. Didn't Dmitri realize Rulven had been checking for fever? That was how people could tell, after all. His sisters had done it that way, so obviously they knew best! "I don't want to kiss you either! Why would I want kiss you?" Dmitri had to be completely delusional to think Rulven would do such a thing! Kiss another guy? Honestly! What foolary. Not funny. "If I was going to kiss you, I would kiss you!"

Yes, because that phrase really made his point clear.

Growling, Rulven crossed his arms high over his board chest. He lengthened his stride to catch up and walk the shore alongside the wading harper. He still scowled, annoyed with the youth, but opting to not let it get to him in favor of getting Dmitri back to the Weyr--specifically to the infirmary. Eikane, yes, that was the other harpers name. Although Rulven didn't remember saying the name, but Dmitri had obviously plucked the thought of the smith's head. He did think the older harper as a begrudging keeper, and well, apparently so too did Dmitri. But, aside from that, hopefully Dmitri had just slipped out from under Eikane's watch and the older harper was not in the jungle. Rulven would poke around looking for Eikane later just to make sure.

"Considering you're sick and managed to get yourself lost out here, I don't think you should be allowed." He peered not-so-nicely out of the corner of his eyes at Dmitri. The gaze was narrowed in a scolding glare, but Rulven for all sakes and purposes, looked concerned for the harper. "If I hadn't heard you singing, who knows what could have happened to you. You might as well have been singing for death, calling out and dangling yourself as dinner for a feline. Is it a habit of yours to attract things that want to hurt you?" See note: Warren. Rulven would have to keep a close watch over this one if he was prone to such trouble. If the harper lived through the plague, Rulven deeply frowned at the thought.

[Requiem]

Half-skipping over the stones, Dmitri turned his head slightly as Rulven came up alongside him, his hair falling before his face and only showing occasional glimpses of the sly gray eyes behind the golden curtain. He was smirking, but it was unlikely that Rulven would notice that. No, he had no idea what the smith had intended, except that it involved holding him and touching faces. That was about as close as you could get to a kiss without actually kissing, wasn't it? Had Rulven been hoping he'd...come the rest of the way? Was it a test? That would explain why the man was so flustered now. Probably embarrassed.

Tossing his head, he scrunched his nose up at Rulven, though his eyes flashed with just enough ill-concealed irritation to show that the smith was getting to him despite the wicked grin. "Actually, I was singing about death. Inviting 'im to a little dance I was. Would you like to dance with death, smith? He and I are close pals, we are. I'm sure I could arrange it." Of course he was absolutely blowing smoke, but you never knew how gullible someone was until you tried right?

Squaring his shoulders, he tied the laces of his boots and casually draped them over his neck. "I never get in trouble. They always keep me on a tight leash." Scampering a small ways down the river, he leapt and spun midair to land in a crouch on a slippery boulder, one leg sliding before he caught it. Dmitri tilted his head to one side. "But I think you must have gotten in trouble, smithy. What did you do, huh? A little old to suddenly decide you want a dragon. Did they find out you like boys?"

Letting his feet slide out from under him, he plunked down on his rump, tapping his heels lightly against the rock and grinning down at Rulven. "You don't really think I'm interested in you, right? It's not a good idea to be trying to kiss someone you believe is sick, anyway, even though I most certainly am not," Dmitri scolded lightly. Did Rulven really think he'd drop it? The other candidate had given him a scare, and Dmitri was going to pay him back in full...and have loads of fun doing it.

[rii]

"That isn't funny."

Rulven arms slacked to fold more loosely in front of his chest. He didn't appreciate the harpers words, nor his tone, but the smith would do nothing about it. He would have forced a smile if not for the lingering thoughts of dead bodies lurking in the back of his mind. Yeah, the thin harper might already be dancing around with Death. Close pals indeed, if Dmitri had been sick a long time, he had been spreading it to everyone else. What a friend. So no, Rulven had already been touched by the plague, he did not want a second dance. If the words had been meant as a threat--no, Rulven couldn't even phantom the harper even trying to threaten him. What a silly notion; as if he'd take a threat from Dmitri seriously.

A wary eye watched Dmitri's antics over the boulders, expecting the harper to spill over into the main current any moment and start flailing. And, of course, want his help. Wait, what delusional topic were they talking about now? Rulven squinted questioningly at the humanoid flit. "I don't like boys." Least of all harper boys. Not his fault Dmitri rambled on and added an additional, subject changing question, giving Rulven means to skirt the first inquiry--not that he had any idea what the boy was going on about.

Sigh, the harper was still on that subject. Like a mutt with a bone, that one. "I already told you I didn't try to kiss you. All I did was take your temperature because you are feverish. I'm concerned about you." Sheesh. Dmitri really wanted to believe Rulven had tried to kiss him, like he was disappointed or something. Rulven's fingers twitched and he gave the harper an odd look. Uhm. Did the harper like other guys and that is why he assumed Rulven was going to kiss him? Because the idea had never crossed Rulven's mind, ever. So, uh, no. Gross. Mental note to keep Dmitri at arm's length--the harper might get other funny ideas. Rulven wanted no part in it.

He frowned, coming to a stop when he passed the harper.. who was sitting on one of the boulders. Please tell him he would not have to wade out into the waters to retrieve Dmitri. "Are you a good swimmer?" Yes, distract his mind with other subjects. Worked for delusional patients, right? Yes yes..

Rulven eyes widened slightly and he looked over his shoulders at the treeline. Very, very quietly he spoke to the harper in an alarmed tone. "I think we should get moving again.. "

[Requiem]

Dmitri's heels stopped clicking against the rock and he frowned down at Rulven. Temperature, was it? That...actually did make sense. In an odd sort of way. Although why the smith would think to check his temperature that way was beyond him. Besides, it seemed decidedly inefficient, given that such a check depended greatly on your own temperature. Rulven was probably just cold. After all, Dmitri knew he wasn't feverish. No delusions. No curious thoughts that he didn't normally get. He actually felt like he had more energy than normal, the sniffles and coughs notwithstanding.

"There's no need, really. Just ask Eikane. I'm pretty much always like this," the harper commented quite seriously, the boy looking altogether solemn perched upon his rock, one leg drawn up so that his head could rest on his knee in a distinctly contemplative posture. The smith was avoiding his question, he was, and that only picqued Dmitri's curiousity even more.

Frowning at Rulven, Dmitri gathered his other leg up to his chest, letting one arm dangle low, the water dragging his loosened sleeve in the direction of the current. He could be on his feet at a moment's notice and scampering across the rocks again, if Rulven did anything strange, which the harper was rather expecting. Hadn't he just asked him if he could swim? Dmitri didn't want to end up in the water simply because Rulven was annoyed and willing to throw his weight around. The sodden sleeve gathered water in the event of a need for retaliation.

The harper sat up straighter at Rulven's odd actions, eyes narrowing to slits. He hadn't heard anything...and call him arrogant, but it seemed unlikely that a forge-rat would have better hearing than a harper. Then again, he might know what to listen for. He stood suddenly, leaping out, off the rock, and grabbing at Rulven's shoulders while the smith was still turned. Dmitri slid for a moment, then clung, arms going tightly around Rulven's chest. "Don't let them get me! They want to eat me, the evil wherries, don't let them, don't let them. You can even kiss me if you want, but I don't want to die!"

Most people likely would have figured out by this time that the harper was poking fun at Rulven. Most. He was not an excitable person naturally...even if he most certainly was a rather talkative, eccentric one.

[rii]

Rulven didn't doubt for a second that Dmitri did act peculiar all the time. Maybe, just maybe, he really didn't have a fever. The smith didn't have time to dwell on the thought long because the harper suddenly launched himself off the rock. And, Rulven eye's widened, he quickly braced himself to hold the additional weight that quickly clung to him. He didn't see Dmitri as a threat so of course he didn't react aggressively to the unforeseen reaction.

But..

Regardless of whether Dmitri was playing or not, the harper had gotten out of the river, just as the smith wanted. He seized the smaller's wrists, quickly dislodging and jerking him to the front. No, Rulven didn't care to heed to any cries of protest, not at this point. The smith released and quickly seized the youth, one arm around the waist the other around thighs and he easily hoisted the thin harper up and threw him over his shoulder. There. Rulven puffed a strand of the long hair away from his face. At least now he didn't have to worry about the harper bouncing over the rocks or running back off into the forest. No, with a firm grip around the boy's long legs, all the smith had to worry about was the potential... flailing.

Grunt, the smith started off again, lengthening his stride to cover more ground. The sooner they got the Weyr, the better. It all oddly reminded him of the day when he had taken action to break up a fight between his two older sisters. All nails, hair pulling, and crisp slaps. He had grabbed the older sister in a similar fashion, walked into the forge and dumped her into the cooling basin. Least to say, she was not happy with him, but it had stopped the fight.

Dumping Dmitri into the river held promise, but it would do no good. The harper would probably bounce off again spouting more nonsense. A rather jovial grin spread across the smith's face. "I've no doubt you act this odd all the time. But just in case, I'm still bringing you to the infirmary to get checked out. Eikane might get in trouble if you up and died out here to the wherries."

[Requiem]

He wasn't sure what exactly it was that he'd expected, but being snatched by the wrists and finding himself half-flying forward certainly wasn't one of them. Dmitri let out a cry that was half-protest, half-pain, twisting and somehow managing to keep his feet. So startled was the harper that his immediate instinct for flight didn't kick in right away. Oh, his mind was screaming run but his legs simply wouldn't move.

Then it was too late, the harper crushed against the smith briefly before he found himself cracking his nose against the bottom edge of Rulven's shoulderblade. Instinctively clutching at the other candidate's shirt (even though there wasn't really any way he'd end up faceplanting, not with the brute's vicelike grip holding him in place) Dmitri resisted the urge to bite the man like a common weyrbrat. This was not at all acceptable. Nor had he ever been snatched up in such a manner. He was a fairly slippery individual normally, and in recent turns he'd just gotten too tall for most to consider such an action. Not acceptable. Manhandling was not acceptable. Had he mentioned that it wasn't acceptable?

Thrashing on the man's shoulder for a moment, he dug his nails into the smith's back. "Let me down, ogre. I can walk you know." The playfulness had vanished. They were moving fast though, weren't they? A glimmer of apprehension moved through him. Disappearing people...no, couldn't be Rulven. The smith wasn't smart enough to remain undetected for so long. Unless someone was using him?

No, no! He wasn't going to the infirmary! The half-hearted squirming redoubled into something truly fearsome (at least for the harper). He kicked out at Rulven's legs, putting a fair amount of force behind it considering the boy's thighs were still restrained. "Are you trying to kill me? Of course the bloody wherries aren't going to eat me!" Pushing at Rulven's back in an attempt to get himself upright at least, the harper considered screeching loud enough for someone to hear. But they really were pretty deep and likely such a one didn't exist. (Or, if they did, he didn't want to run into them.)

"I'm not sick," Dmitri insisted, tone quite reasonable even in his agitation. "But if you throw me in there with a bunch of dying patients, I'm going to get sick, and on Faranth's eggs I'll make your life miserable afterward if I have to come back from the dead and haunt you. Stop being so thickskulled and let me down."